In These Walls
by Departed
Summary: Korra looks at the door, then back to Asami. She scratches her head nervously as she asks, "Er… are you okay?" "Of course," she answers brightly. A little too brightly. Almost dreamily. "You're here now. Why wouldn't I be?" Post Season 1. Korra/Asami Oneshot


**Title: **In These Walls

**Rating: **M

**Pairing: **Korra/Asami, Korra/Mako

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing

**A/N: **Please be aware of the rating. I would say this is more of a high T though, rather than M. Just imagine this in Korra's point of view, who has almost no experience or knowledge in the sex department. I tried to keep it as tame as possible because of it.

This takes place where Season 2 supposedly begins, six months later. I tried to add in some of the information given from comic con, so... spoiler alert.

Enjoy :)

* * *

It's closing in on midnight when the festival approaches its end, and the children once running among the floating lanterns are carried home. The tables that are spread out along the snowy field are nearly vacant at this point; cleared off of the various games and great pile of food that would be used for an afternoon feast the following day. And as the last remaining guests are shown to their sleeping courters, the lights begin to dim. The lanterns glow vividly for several seconds before they fade to shadowy forms hovering in the sky, with the exception of a few that illuminate the high banquet walls.

The snow doesn't fail to cover the lingering supplies in sheets of white. It's a wonder how they've managed to gather the most important resources before the real storm hits, which would effectively negate the effort to clean until morning. It would fall over them in bitter cold flakes, and surround them in a wave of frost. Korra can already feel it; her fingers growing numb and the sudden drop in temperature. It'd be their coldest night yet.

"Is that the last of it?" She turns to Kya just as they seal the leftover sea crab and fish soup. Feet pattering softly against the ground, she places the containers on the table with the rest.

Kya nods underneath her hood. "That should be it for tonight," she says. Her smile is warm and infectious as she gazes down at Korra. "Now get. You've done enough for today."

"Don't be ridiculous. You did all the work," Korra argues, her brow quirking upward. She rubs her hands together in an attempt to warm them, only to remember in a moment of stupidity that she can firebend. They shimmer brightly in shades of orange before she proclaims all too insistently, "_You_ go get some rest. I'm sure Jinora's still waiting up for her story. I can take these to the kitchen."

This time it's Kya's turn to raise her eyebrow. "I don't like that tone of voice, young lady," she says sharply. Her hands are on her hips, an almost perfect imitation of a certain waterbender.

Korra rolls her eyes. "You're doing it wrong. Katara doesn't sway her hips like that."

"Of course she does." Kya frowns. "I think I would know my own mother."

But Korra just shakes her head, gesturing towards the older woman's waistline. "It's her left hand that goes up, not her right. And her leg does this weird bending thing. Like this." She places her hands on her waist and shifts her right leg forward, straightening her spine. Her lips purse into a tight frown. Her eye twitches slightly.

Kya studies her for a good second or two before she bursts out laughing, pulling Korra into a hug. It's heartfelt and tight and Korra can't help but return the motherly affection. That's what she always liked about Kya; the blatant similarity between her and Katara is sort of refreshing. She can never get enough of those hugs.

When Kya pulls away, she smiles again, big and wide, and places a kiss to Korra's forehead. Korra grimaces. Maybe the overly displayed attention is a little much.

"Oh, dear," she says, and pinches Korra's cheek, causing her to grimace even more. "That firebender boy is lucky to have you. He better be treating you well if he plans on tying the knot with my favorite god-daughter."

Korra flushes, her cheeks an embarrassing shade of red. "I'm your only god-daughter," she murmurs.

Kya waves a hand forward, as if to say _not the point_. "Where is he now?"

"With Bolin," Korra answers. Her face is still warm as she shifts her feet awkwardly against the snow. "Food poisoning. He's allergic to crab I think."

"Ah, well, send them my goodnights then," Kya says and smiles down at Korra one final time. "I'm not getting any younger, you know. I hope to see those babies coming in the future."

Korra instantly draws her eyebrows together. The tips of her ears redden. "Good_night_, Kya," she sighs, and offhandedly waves as the older woman's footsteps recede into the darkness.

She gathers the rest of the containers and balances them in her arms, which proves to be a bad idea when two of them topple to the ground. With a _whoosh _of air, they hover back into her arms and she carefully piles them onto a tablecloth. Once the ends of the cloth are tied into a knot, she picks up the sack, flings it over her shoulder, and proceeds off in the direction of the banquet hall.

It stands tall and quiet in the snowy ridge. Made entirely of ice, the building seems to sparkle underneath the moonlight, reflecting off various colors in beautiful, dazzling rays. Korra likes to sit on the edge of the steps sometimes and watch the stars at night. She immediately decides right then that tonight wouldn't be one of them. There aren't any stars to look at.

She passes through the dining area in silence. At this time of night, there's not a single sound but the rustling wind to grasp onto, followed by the slam of a door as she enters the kitchen. She drops the load onto a counter by the other containers of food.

"Looks like we're set for life," Korra mutters to herself, eyes scanning the mountain-high mass of plates. Her gaze lingers on a particular container, filled to the brim with seal meat. Her stomach rumbles in response.

She grabs for it and a nearby pitcher of water. "S'not _my _fault I missed dinner." She slides off the top. _I doubt they'll notice any of it's gone. _

Just as she's about to blow on the slice of cold meat dangling from her fingers, a loud _thump _echoes into the room. Korra immediately drops the container. Her arms tense, and then spread into a defensive form in front of her, legs bent. Her eyes wander the room cautiously.

"Who's there?" she calls out. Fear trickles down her spine for a moment, the sort of fear that causes her to feel colder than she already is. She shoves the feeling away.

When there's no response, Korra reluctantly lowers her arms to her side. Her head drops. Maybe she had imagined it…

Another thump, this one louder than the previous. Korra spins around. Water swirls from the pitcher beside her and curls around the length of her arms.

"Show yourself!" she shouts and takes a step back. Her back straightens and, eyes narrowed, twirls from one corner to the other. Darkness casts over her vision. She realizes with a hint of panic that she can barely make out the shapes in the room.

Korra tenses when she hears a noise coming from behind the counter, noise that sounds suspiciously like a hiccup. A hiccup in the form of a very familiar tone. Korra relaxes her arms, but doesn't let the water seep from her hold. It clings to her like a second skin as she rounds the table warily and halts in front of the figure sitting against the counter wall.

Korra blinks in surprise. The water slips to the ground with a resounding splash. "Asami?"

The figure stirs once, and then lifts its head up. Bright emerald eyes blink back hazily. "Korra." She sounds groggy. But her wide grin contrasts sharply with her tired features.

Korra's forehead scrunches up in confusion. She observes the other girl as she stretches and –

– _why_ is she looking at her like that?

Korra looks at the door, then back to Asami. She scratches her head nervously as she asks, "Er… are you okay?"

"Of course," she answers brightly. A little _too _brightly. Almost _dreamily_. "You're here now. Why wouldn't I be?"

Korra blinks again. She can feel the confusion causing a mental fog in her mind, clogging it up with crazy scenarios of rampaging equalists making another appearance and several different cases of mind control. She's about to run for help before she catches sight of the aluminum cans scattered all over the floor.

Korra leans over to pick one up, having to squint in the dark at the small characters. _Spinning Revolution_, it reads. And then, in smaller, barely visible letters –

_Warning: Contains large doses of cactus juice._

Oh, for the love of –

Korra resists the urge to palm her forehead. The tin can erupts into flames, lighting up the kitchen, and then dissolves into ashes. They fall from her hand and flutter to the ground.

"Come on," Korra sighs. She feels like her eyes are about to slip out of their sockets from her enormous eye-roll. "Let's get you out of here."

She leans forward to slide her arm around Asami's waist, the other going for her shoulder, but the force of a knee has her toppling over and onto a giggling Asami.

"You… should've… seen… your face," Asami breathes out in between her peals of laughter. She rolls over and pins Korra down by the hips, still giggling.

Korra huffs a strand of hair from her face. She glares up in annoyance as the taller girl refuses to budge. "That's not funny," she growls quietly. Her hands find Asami's and pry them from her waist.

A gasp. "Stop," Asami says, eyes wide. She shifts back a little. "That tickles."

Korra grits her teeth. "Then get off."

She's astonished to see Asami complying with her demand, leaving her thighs to sit by her side. The relief is squashed all too soon, however, when the weight is suddenly applied to her chest instead. A tangle of smooth, velvety dark hair invades her face, and a pressure presses up against her neck. Korra stiffens.

"I can't," Asami says from her neck. Her left arm sprawls over Korra's torso. "You're like one big, fluffy pillow."

Korra wrinkles her nose in distaste. Big? Fluffy? Sure, you could say her _coat_ is fuffy, but _her_? _Big_?

"We have to go," Korra finds herself saying, moving to stand up, but Asami only hugs her tighter.

"No." She presses closer. "Stay."

Korra lets out a deep, aggravated breath, swallowing past the lump that had developed in the back of her throat for a reason she can't identify. It slithers down her throat like a sea urchin – slimy and overall unpleasant. She's forced to cough roughly in order to clear it out, but it comes out as more of a bark contorted with a yelp.

"At least have some water," Korra offers several moments later when Asami's grip on her doesn't appear to loosen. Her back is bearing heavily on the counter. With Asami's frame adding to the weight, the ache becomes sort of distracting.

"I don't need water," Asami slurs and shakes her head, the weight shifting to Korra's stomach. Korra quietly groans.

"You're drunk."

Asami shakes her head again. "I'm not," she denies. Her judgment is proven faulty as she places her palms on the floor on either side of Korra's waist and lifts herself up, only for her to tumble forward against quivering arms.

Korra manages another eye-roll. "Here," she says softly, and bends the water from a flask until it swivels around her fingers. She holds it up to Asami, who turns her head away and groans. "Drink it," Korra urges.

Green eyes flick up at the demand. They flutter closed, and then open again to stare intensely at Korra. Already feeling uncomfortable, Korra squirms amidst the dropping feeling in her stomach and holds the water out between Asami's parted lips. She bends it a little too far it seems, because suddenly Asami's coughing.

"Sorry," Korra says. She bends the water back and lets it spill to the ground.

"It's fine," Asami breathes out. Although her words still slur a bit, her eyes have garnered a less foggy clarity.

Korra sits back into a more comfortable position as she observes the raven-haired girl straining to obtain some sort of sobriety. She picks up another empty can from the side and asks, "Where did you get these?" She's sure her mother, Pema, or Katara would never allow these sorts of drinks in such close proximity to the children. They wouldn't obtain them at all. Kya might, perhaps, but somehow Korra doubts it was her. Tenzin would simply have a fit.

Her voice sounds raw when she answers. "Commander Bumi," Asami says, before quickly correcting herself, "_Uncle_ Bumi."

Ah. That explains a lot.

The can is crushed underneath her fist as Korra's jaw tightens. She really doesn't need this right now. These last few days were designated for herself and her family. For Mako and Bolin and Tenzin's relatives, _entirely _as a farewell celebration before their return to Republic City. She never expected Asami's arrival just days before their departure. But as the new owner of the Sato industry, she's part of the reason why Korra is needed back in the city.

"Did you really have to drink them all?" Korra asks. Her voice sounds strained even to her.

At this, Asami's expression seems to sober. She hangs her head just a little as she quietly confirms, "I didn't mean to."

"So why did you?" Korra probes. Her lip pinches back into a frown.

She thinks she sees Asami shrug, but she can't be sure. Her face is almost entirely consumed by the dark.

Korra huffs, her breath catching as she hears Asami whisper, "I don't know what I'm doing." Or at least, she _thinks _that's what Asami had said. Not only is it difficult to read her expressions, but blood seems to have rushed to her ears, making it equally as difficult to hear anything.

"What do you mean?"

She doesn't expect Asami to shrink back the way she does, or her body to tremble and finally give out in a wave of sobs. Korra once again finds herself in an odd predicament when Asami lurches herself forward and plants her face deep into Korra's chest. Sobs rake through her frame. Korra straightens slightly, looks up, then back to Asami, then up again, before she awkwardly pats the other girl on the back. The gesture causes her to cry even harder. Her stomach drops.

"Shh…" Korra hushes hesitantly. She places her hand on the back of Asami's head. Her voice cracks slightly as she says, "It'll be okay."

She can feel the harsh movements of Asami's head shaking back and forth against her chest, the raspy, course breathing against her collar bone, the tears sinking through the material of her coat, and then the heartbeat thrumming excitedly beside her arm. Or is that her own heart thudding against her ribcage? Korra can't tell.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Asami says again, the words muffled against Korra's shoulder, but she hears it all the same. "Everything is just so _confusing. _My father and – and his business… I know you said you would help me but it's _not enough. _I –" Her grip around the hem of Korra's coat loosens. Her voice turns somewhat hollow as she murmurs, "Kya told me about the engagement."

_Oh._

At this, Asami lurches back. Her face takes on an incredible shade of red. "I can't believe I just told you that," she blurts out, slapping a hand over her mouth. "I… oh my gosh, oh my gosh!"

"It's okay. Kya's not really known for keeping secrets," Korra replies easily. But her tone is clipped. Sharp. It suddenly makes sense now. All of it – Asami's hasty arrival, the drinking…

There's a strange numbness spreading over her chest that she can't really pinpoint. She feels cold.

"No, you don't understand," Asami hastily adds. "You can't marry Mako," she insists, grabbing onto Korra's wrist. "You just can't!"

Korra wrenches her hand away from Asami's hold, and Asami is sitting there looking at her like the world is at stake, and suddenly Korra is just _so _angry.

How _dare _she? How dare she come back and interfere with her and Mako's personal life? This was _never _supposed to happen! They had ended on good terms last time, Korra as the Avatar, Asami as the newfound owner of her father's industry, and Mako… Why can't Korra simply enjoy the bright sides of her life without the past meddling in any way? Mako _loves_ her. She loves _him. _Can't that be enough?

It just doesn't make any sense.

"Look," Korra breathes in tightly. She clenches her teeth as she grits out, "I get it. You still have feelings for Mako. I can't justify the way he treated you, Asami, but what happened, happened, and there's nothing I can do to –" but Asami cuts her off.

"You deserve better than him."

Korra halts mid-word, eyes gleaming over in surprise. "I –"

Wait… _what?_

She is similarly surprised, if not more so, when Asami's face is directly in front of hers, looking panicked and calm and determined all at once. The intoxication doesn't seem to have faded from her system just yet.

"You do," she reiterates, and stares at Korra so intensely that it's starting to scare her. Now Korra knows for sure that it was her own heart thundering away in her chest. Her lungs constrict and give another squeeze. It's getting harder to breathe, and she isn't sure why. "You're smart and caring and funny and he… Mako isn't. He doesn't deserve you. He won't treat you right. He'll treat you like he did me and… and you don't deserve that. You just don't."

Her ramble trails off into incoherent stuttering and Korra blinks slowly. The room is beginning to spin around her.

"Stop it," Korra says in a low voice, wondering when it had gotten so thick. There's a clenching feeling in her stomach, like she had eaten something she wasn't supposed to. "You don't know what you're saying –" _doing_ "– just… stop it."

Asami does stop, but her gaze never leaves Korra's face, and it's deep and knowing… and all around _suffocating. _It drags the air out of Korra's lungs and destroys it. And all too soon she's pushed back onto her rear. Her eyes widen. Her shoulders are shoved hard against the counter wall, and lips descend over hers.

Korra pushes back with the force of an otter penguin, which is to say… not a lot. Her hands are shaking violently as they clench around her sides.

"What… what're you doing?" she gasps. She's vaguely aware of the water soaking through her clothes, where the thrust of her arms must have caused some of the ice from the ceiling to melt onto her lap. "Yo – you can't. You're _drunk_, Asami! You're not thinking straight."

"Yes. I am," Asami concludes, nodding her head sharply. Her resolve is painfully vivid, but there's still that murky cloudiness looming over her eyes, as though it's a decision based on desperation. And Korra still can't get over the fact that Asami had almost –

She had kissed her! _Her._

_Korra._

She can't shake away the overwhelming dizziness. "You…" she begins, only to falter just as easily. Her mouth just feels so, so dry. "You _can't_," she emphasizes, pointing to Asami, and then to herself. But what exactly does this mean? "I'm with Mako," she elaborates in a determined fashion. But of course, that wavers as well.

Korra nearly staggers back when the gaze pinning her to the spot becomes jagged, and she realizes she _can't _stagger, not when the wall behind her is pressed so tightly against her back, it physically _hurts. _

"Don't do it," Asami pleads in a soft whisper. She has her fingers wrapped around Korra's wrist again, but this time she doesn't seem to notice. Asami leans in closer. "You can't marry him."

Korra's sure at this point that her heart is about ready to burst right out of her chest, or at the very least go into cardiac arrest. Her breath hitches, catching into her throat and eventually falling into rhythm with her heaving chest. She can't seem to tear her eyes away from Asami's mouth.

She finally snaps out of her reverie. "Don't tell me what I can't –" is all she manages to get out, before Asami pushes forward once again and kisses her.

The impact of it causes Korra's head to collide with the counter, and so she isn't as quick to shove Asami off. It was those few moments of sluggish struggling that has Korra pausing into the kiss. Her senses go into overdrive. Asami's scent specifically had filled her senses, and she inhales deeply through her nostrils just to get more of it.

And then there's the kiss itself, where Asami's closeness and scent and soft skin and pouty lips… It's different than kissing Mako. This isn't like anything she's felt before.

Her resistance lightens somewhat, until Asami presses against her, placing her thumb lightly on Korra's cheek and opening her mouth just the tiniest bit. And Korra's first coherent thought is that it feels… _good_. _Really good. _

The reluctance leaves her before Korra can face the internal battle assaulting her mind. Instead she finds herself returning the kiss with hesitance, her lips softening against Asami's and molding into the rhythmic movements. All thoughts of Mako drift from her mind as fluently as waterbending. There's only Asami, and her overwhelming scent, and the hands kneading across Korra's stomach and pulling open her coat.

It's like all sense of time had disappeared around them. It must've been a few seconds, a minute at the most, but to Korra, it feels like hours. She feels herself giving in to the whimper lodged deep in her throat before the faintest sound vibrates through her lips, and then Asami has her hand in Korra's hair, kissing her deeply. Almost like –

_Oh._

Korra gasps softly when she feels the tongue slipping through her parted lips and meeting her own. This is new.

This is definitely new.

Asami's fingers are digging into her skull and pulling her forward, and for a second, Korra truly believes she's about to pass out from the lack of oxygen. But then Asami pulls away, their mouths disconnecting wetly, and she opens her legs a little so that Asami can press her hips forward. A mouth attaches to the base of Korra's neck, right where her collarbone meets, and –

She lurches upward. And to her utmost humiliation, Korra moans. _Moans_. It's thick and husky and completely and utterly humiliating. She feels her face growing ridiculously hot.

As if sensing her torment, Asami raises her head up, meeting Korra's mortified gaze with a calm one of her own. She stares at the brunette for one long moment before raising her hand to a scorching, reddening cheek.

"It's okay if it feels good," Asami whispers gently, and cups both of Korra's cheeks into her palms. "It feels good for me, too." She settles her lips over Korra's jaw and lets them linger there, leaning back, and then tugs her cloak off and over her shoulders.

The confusion rises deep in the pit of Korra's stomach, causing it to churn and, at times, pull at her heartstrings. It's happening now as she catches Asami's eye again, and lets her own eyes fall on the thin, silky material clinging tightly to Asami's chest. It's like a giant boulder has hit her square in the stomach, and something unfamiliar creeps over her, sinking right below her abdomen. It clenches and twists into an uncomfortable throbbing.

It's completely foreign to Korra, this idea of… of _arousal_, if that's what this is. She has some basic idea of the anatomy and the mechanics of child bearing, but _this_? Never in her life had she ever imagined herself being with a girl. Is that even possible?

It's as though something else has taken over her body, and whatever it is jumps at the idea of touching Asami. It wills her to relieve the frantic urge clawing inside her, opening doors that shouldn't be opened.

Korra shutters as her hand is guided towards Asami's waist, where a strip of pearly white skin peaks out from underneath the cloth. She briefly wonders whether the skin there is as soft as the rest of her.

As Asami leans over to kiss her again, Korra's hands find their way around slender hips, and suddenly she's no longer aware of her own movements when those lips are reattached to her neck, sucking and nibbling and causing Korra's body to act on its own accord. Her hips buck violently when she feels a pressure bearing down in between her thighs. It tightens when Asami shifts her hips, crushing her chest against Korra's, and a thigh presses hard between her legs.

The sensation the movement evokes brings her head back, another moan flying from Korra's lips. The feeling is just so new to her. She doesn't know how to explain it.

All too soon the nibbling turns into a deep round of mouth on mouth, and Korra's hands are guided once more from Asami's hips and further down, lower… her knuckles brush against fabric, and her fingertips –

Korra's eyes snap open. Her ragged breathing fades into whimpers.

"Stop," Korra says, once realizing her hand is currently obscured by the hem of Asami's pants. "This is too much – we – this isn't right."

But Asami shakes her head. The green in her eyes is darker than Korra's ever seen it. "Please."

Korra's hand is still tucked beneath the waistband. She can feel the edge of her undergarments pressing into her shaky fingers as she looks up through the fringe of her hair. "We can't –"

Asami cuts her off by kissing her. "Please," she says again. The desperation in her tone is enough to unravel Korra, tossing her into a field so completely foreign, it terrifies her.

She swallows thickly but gives her a tentative nod, and can only watch as Asami shifts over her lap. Her hips move forward, Korra's hand moving with them, and suddenly she can feel the slick material of cloth beneath her fingers. It's warm, and so, _so _wet. The feeling stirs something in Korra.

Asami's breath hitches as she slowly pushes down on Korra's hand. The wetness spreads over her knuckles, and Korra focuses her attention on the faint pulsing thudding against her fingertips. It's dizzying, she notices, and it dawns on her that she isn't fairing much better with the pressure between her thighs.

Sliding a finger down her slit, Korra's eyes widen to the size of saucepans when she hears Asami moan softly, first against her chest, and then right by her ear, where her panting sends uncontrollable shivers down Korra's spine. She presses harder into the damp area, marveled at just how heated it had become. Asami's pants grow raspy, louder, as she rocks her hips gently against Korra, and she's immediately hit with the understanding that the harder she rubs, well…

Asami jerks forward, eyes squeezed shut, and begins whimpering into Korra's lips as her movements quicken. Dark hair falls over her shoulder and smothers Korra's face, the thrusts becoming more frantic.

"Korra," Asami whimpers so quietly Korra barely hears her. She feels nails clawing into her back, and pulls her head back in time to see Asami's eyes closed, mouth dropped open just a little, forehead creased and pants shallow and heavy.

Korra's breath catches. Bearing down one final time, Asami's head falls down on the brunette's shoulder. She tenses, gripping onto Korra's hips as tight as she can, and then shivers. Her body collapses effortlessly on top of Korra's.

Seconds pass by in silence, maybe even minutes, before the realization of what just happened comes crashing down.

Asami sighs into Korra's neck, and Korra thinks that for a moment, she feels Asami's lips brush tenderly over her shoulder as she draws back. Korra moves her fingers away and places them at her side, where she struggles with her quivering legs to stand up. She gives up after the third attempt. The discomfort between her thighs fades to a dull throbbing.

They stare at each other, eyes tracing over the other's face. It's only when Korra catches sight of the thin sheen of sweat covering Asami's face that the reality of the situation hits her fully.

"No," Korra whispers in horror. She glances at Asami, then at her coat lying carelessly by her feet, before palming her mouth. Had they just – she _couldn't_ have –

"Korra?" Asami's voice is soft, and holds a certain sway to it that suggests she isn't in her right mind either. That only horrifies Korra even more.

Her face looks green. Even in the dark, Korra notices the small tremors coursing through the other girl's limbs.

"Here. Put this on." Korra grabs her coat from the floor and wraps it around Asami's shoulders, buttoning up the front.

Asami shivers in response. "I feel sick," is the fragile reply. Korra's chest aches upon hearing it.

Grabbing the cloak that Asami had worn, she folds it into a messy bundle and lays it by her feet. "Just lie down," she orders gently, gesturing towards the floor and the heap of cloth that would serve as a pillow. Asami complies with a little help, and soon her head is resting with Korra's hand brushing away strands of hair.

"You might've drunk too much cactus juice," Korra says. She sighs as she adds, "Don't move. I'll be right back."

She doesn't wait for a response. She's on her feet in a flash as her footsteps echo loudly against twisting, icy walls. As soon as she makes it back to the banquet hall, the wind strikes her like a knife piercing through every inch of her skin. She knows then that they would have to stay the night.

She comes back with several roots in hand, having gone through as many as she could and tugged them out from the walls. Stacking them one by one on the ground, she flicks a stream of fire into the pile, watching as the molting wood erupts into flames.

"What happens now?" Korra turns to look at Asami, who's watching her rather intently. Her face seems to have faded from green to its usual pale undertones.

Korra clears her throat, feeling her insides clench all of a sudden. "I don't know," she says, and shrugs. She really doesn't.

Asami gazes at her long and hard, her eyes garnering a bit of clarity, and then, "You're beautiful, Korra." Korra looks up in bewilderment. "Just remember that."

She turns to the side and closes her eyes, and Korra simply watches her. Silence.

Minutes pass by in a blur. Hours. Sometime later, when she's sure Asami is asleep, Korra thinks of Mako, and the memory of him kneeling before her, betrothal necklace in hand. She thinks of Kya, who is just as much of a mother to her as her real one is. And Tenzin, who has become so much more to her than her mentor. He's someone she can look up to. A guardian. A father figure.

She thinks of Aang and her Avatar duties. And the world. But most of all she thinks of the future and what it holds in store for her. She sees herself in a long, flowing water tribe dress, her mother's necklace dangling proudly from her neck. It shines vividly beneath the sunlight. And she sees children. Many of them; running towards her with outstretched arms and bright, smiling faces.

And for a long moment, she thinks of Asami, and finally – _finally_ – she succumbs to her tears and allows herself to cry.

* * *

This was meant to be a oneshot. I know the ending doesn't have much closure, but I took another direction instead and, well, this is what happened. And it was such a pain to write D: I haven't written any kind of smut in years.

I _might _continue this into a three part series, not as added chapters, but separate stories. I already have the ideas in mind, though I'm not entirely sure yet. It really depends on the feedback.


End file.
